Make You Feel My Love
by Emmanester
Summary: I've been imagining this fic for probably 2 years now and finally decided to write it. It might be rated M for later chapters. This is set immediately after the movie and follows how their relationship progresses. I know fanfiction is rarely posted for this movie anymore, but I hope someone out there finds this and enjoys it! Feel free to review, thank you!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Day 1**

Margaret was shaking. Her hands were sweating. She _never_ sweats. Especially in front of other people, especially at work. But Andrew just kissed her, so this was an unforeseen circumstance.

He was helping her unpack her office, deliberately re-filing her papers in their exact spots that he had organized for her on his first day three years ago. She probably couldn't even file them as fast as he could. He had taken charge after their kiss ended. He grabbed her hand and led her into her office, quickly cutting off the moment of pure shock after their colleagues watched them cross some forbidden line. He shut the door behind them, and gave her a box to unpack while he got started on the papers she hurriedly threw into a bin. Normally he just followed everything she said without question, now she had no idea what to do, and he was stepping up to the plate. She didn't know he had it in him.

She couldn't unpack with him sitting calmly in front of her, while she was having the obvious crisis about how this was all going to work. She gazed at him nervously while he was engrossed in his task. Even after his monumental love confession, and her nearly bursting into tears in front of everybody, and his dizzying kiss, and the way he held her, like he knew something about her even she didn't know, he was keeping her shit together. Who knew.

 _God, he's so handsome,_ she thought to herself for probably the millionth time that week. His silky hair adorably flopped over his forehead as he furrowed his brow in complete concentration, as if he didn't just alter their worlds forever minutes earlier. _His hands, God, his hands_ , she thought, as she looked at them working meticulously. Even his fingers were somehow muscular—like the rest of his sculpted body that she saw in all his naked glory—and they were veiny and soft, and she could only imagine what they would feel like on her, inside of her.

"Margaret."

She snapped out of her increasingly heated daydream, probably for the better.

"I'm done filing, is there anything else you want me to do?"

"No, I don't have any more boxes."

She paused, she had to say _something_ , to thank him, but it was so hard to get the words out. He had just told her he loved her for fuck's sake, and she hadn't even said it back. How the hell was this going to work? Andrew was younger than her, and kind, and emotionally stable, and charming, and he was surely very good at relationships. She hadn't had a real boyfriend in practically two decades, when she was a teenager, when her parents were still alive. After that it was months of celibacy separated by the occasional one-night stand. She couldn't keep a boyfriend. She was scared, and emotionally distant, and pushed people away, and she tended to attract guys who acted the same way. She swore off dating a year and a half ago, and she honestly never thought she'd be with a man again. But here was Andrew, anticipating that she was trying to get the words out, and waiting patiently for her to speak.

"You didn't have to help me unpack. You're not my assistant anymore."

"I want to help you, Margaret." he said warmly. "I'll always be here to help you."

She couldn't meet his gaze. _Fuck. What was she going to do?_ She just looked down at the floor. Her hands were still shaking, so she clasped them together to try to hide it. It didn't work. She felt Andrew stride towards her confidently, and take her hands in his, holding them tightly enough to let her know he was in control, but gently enough to rub his thumb in circles on her palm. Her shaking stopped immediately, but she still wouldn't look at him.

"Margaret."

She turned her face towards him, but still looked away. He gently cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. All he could see was terror, and confusion, and was that… hopefulness? Affection? Love, even? _Even after all these years, it's still so hard to read her_ , he thought.

His eyes were filled with warmth, and love, and some deep desire to know her. _He can see right through me,_ she thought.

"We're gonna be ok. Let's get out of here and talk. We have some planning to do."

She gave him a small nod, his hands still holding her face. He kissed her, sweetly, and she managed to crack a smile. He grabbed her purse, and held the door as she walked to the elevator, already tensing up around the shocked stares of the office workers.

She stood awkwardly in the elevator, pushing the close button more times than necessary. Andrew looked at her for a moment as she busied herself with the elevator. _How did I never know it before?_ He thought. He had always known that she had her moments of humanity—like when she would nervously ask her to bring her tampax in the middle of the night, and she would be curled up on the couch, with no makeup and messy hair—yet he never knew how… how _real_ she was. She was funny, and charming, and loved talking to people who were older than she is, and adventurous in her own twisted way, and so incredibly beautiful. He couldn't get her gorgeous cheekbones and brunette mane and full, soft lips out of his mind. She was shifting uncomfortably in place when he pulled her to his chest, feeling her tense at his touch. He rubbed her back rhythmically. He hadn't realized how much shorter than him she was. She looked so small and vulnerable when she wasn't in boss mode. By the time she relaxed into his embrace, the elevator dinged and they reluctantly pulled apart. He grabbed her hand and led her to the sidewalk, quickly hailing a taxi before she could say anything.

He held the door open for her while she got in wordlessly, the look on her face told him her mind was whirling. Andrew got in the other side and told the driver his address.

"We're going to your house?" Margaret questioned. Her tone stung a bit. He pretended not to care.

"You've never seen my apartment so I thought I would give you a tour. Then we figure out the logistics of this whole getting married thing."

Margaret swallowed her protest and reluctantly sat back in her seat. Of course she wanted to see his apartment—with his yellowed penguin classics on his bookshelves, and framed pictures of his family—but it was all so overwhelming. What she really wanted to do was sleep for 20 years, while Andrew held her.

The taxi halted to a stop. Andrew paid and led Margaret up to his apartment.

"It's not much." He said with a hint of embarrassment. "But I think you'll like it."

He was right, it wasn't much. He had a small kitchen, with a bowl of fresh fruit and quilted oven mitts that were surely a gift from Gammy. He had an overstuffed loveseat, a small dining room table, a cramped but clean bathroom, and a closed door which she assumed was the bedroom. It was the bedroom they would eventually sleep in, together. Her head was spinning again.

"It's nice." She managed to squeak out. "You have good taste."

She really meant it. It wasn't the sleek, modern furniture she preferred but Andrew clearly put time into his interior decorating and maintained a clean lifestyle. Staying here wouldn't be so bad.

"Have a seat." He motioned to the loveseat.

She sat down gingerly, trying to look at ease, but failing miserably. Andrew sat down after her, putting an arm around her and pulling her close.

"I talked to Jack and Edwin while you were staring at your boxes. They said we could have the whole week off to plan another wedding. We're supposed to have a honeymoon afterall."

She immediately shot up to glare at him.

"A whole week without work?! But I still have to figure out Fred's deal with Oprah, and return about 50,000 emails, and call James about his publishing date, and…"

"Margaret!" He interrupted. Jack and Edwin will take care of it. We need to get settled and spend time with each other. Plus, I think you could use a real vacation."

She thought about his proposition. She really did need a vacation, it had honestly been 10 years since she took substantial time off, and she did want to spend time with Andrew, but a whole week was a big jump from their formal work hours.

"Ok." She said with a hint of excitement. One week vacation and then we're back to work.

They kept talking, and talking, and talking about their second try at marriage, dealing with a daunting stack of IRS paperwork, updating Andrew's parents, and securing Andrew's promotion as Bob's replacement. They decided to get married at their local court, just the two of them. Margaret needed space right now, they both knew that. They would call Andrew's parents later that week to update them, and then Andrew would have an interview for Bob's position, even though he was guaranteed to get the job. It was dark when they were done talking; the day was coming to a close. Empty cartons of Chinese food littered Andrew's living room, while Margaret rested her head on his shoulder, feeling much better that they had a detailed plan to keep her in the country. Margaret rested her head on Andrew's shoulder while he wrapped his arm around her.

"Are you tired, Margaret?"

"Yeah." She said sleepily.

"I have some pj's you can borrow. My mom left some of her bottoms here last time she visited, and you can wear one of my sweatshirts."

Sleep at Andrew's, in his bed, with him? She hadn't prepared for this. He wasn't expecting her to sleep with him already, was he? They only started dating 8 hours ago. Her hands started trembling again. She took a deep breath.

"Andrew, I'm not going to sleep with you yet." She said firmly, trying to prevent her voice from wavering.

"Margaret, I'm not ready to sleep with you yet, either." He said with a chuckle, as if she should've known that all along.

"You're not? I thought… that's what you wanted."

"Sweetheart, I do want that, just not yet. We only started dating 8 hours ago. I just thought we could sleep together… in the literal sense. We're both tired, and it's been a long day, and it's getting too late for you to go home. Besides, I just want to spend more time with you."

"I… I want to spend more time with you too." She said, as if she was admitting some deeply held secret.

He kissed her then, like he did in the office. It was sweet, innocent almost, but he soon pulled her closer to him, pressing their lips more firmly together. He teased her lips with his tongue, begging for entrance. Her jaw was still tight with uncertainty, but Andrew didn't give up. He let their lips part for a momentary breath, and then stormed her gates again, this time getting access to her tongue, letting it mingle with his. She brought her hands up to the back of his neck, slowly making her way to his silky hair she wanted so badly to touch. She gripped his hair with curled fingers, and gently bit his bottom lip, making him moan into her open mouth. Margaret could tell he was trying not to let things get too far when he slowed their kiss down, gently sucking on her bottom lips before parting with her, letting his forehead rest against hers while they tried to catch their breath. She continued rubbing circles on the back of his neck, while he gripped her waist with reassurance.

"Andrew." She breathed. "I do love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it right away. There were so many people. I needed it to be us, just us."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shit, I was beginning to think you weren't going to say it back." He chuckled. "I love you too Margaret, so so much."

* * *

She came out of the bathroom in his mom's flannel bottoms, and his old crew neck sweatshirt that was much too big on her. Andrew was already reading in bed, sitting against the headboard. He looked up at her, and tried to keep his jaw from dropping. She was fresh faced, with her wild natural waves, his old sweatshirt swallowing her tiny frame. He couldn't help but love her even more.

"Come 'ere."

He opened his arms for her. She hesitated, but eventually let herself fall into his embrace. This was getting easier already. Andrew turned the lights off, and drew her back to his chest, so they were spooning each other. He gently pulled her hair away from the nape of her neck, so her skin was exposed, and kissed each of her tattooed birds before settling into the pillow.

"Goodnight Margaret."

"Goodnight Andrew."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Day 2**

The smog-infused city light seeping through the window meant Margaret's sleep was about to end. She was habitually curled up in fetal position on the edge of the bed, Andrew's bed. Oh right, she was in Andrew's bed. She rolled over to look at him, trying to loosen up her muscles that were somehow tense even in her sleep. Andrew was breathing heavily, still in a deep sleep. _Typical_ , she chuckled to herself. He was never really a morning person. He tried his best to look neat but she could always tell he woke up minutes before grabbing her morning coffee; his tie was usually crooked despite her constantly telling him to fix it each morning. _He looks so peaceful_ , she thought. His arm was sprawled out towards her, almost as if he had been reaching for her in his sleep. After a minute of debating, Margaret tentatively scooted towards him, settling her head on his shoulder and resting her hand lightly on his abdomen. This caused him to stir a bit, instinctively trying to get closer to her. Then, she felt him against her leg. _Shit_ , she remembered, _it's morning_.

Andrew, still half asleep, felt Margaret snuggle up next to him. He was disoriented at first until the events from yesterday came flooding back to him: kissing in the office, telling her he loved her, Margaret saying it back, her lips, her soft brown eyes, everything. When he turned to wrap his arm around her he felt all of her muscles tighten. _What could it possibly be this time? Shit_ , he remembered. _It's morning_.

Margaret got out of bed and shut the bathroom door behind her before Andrew could protest. After she was done making herself look as presentable as possible with what little makeup and hygiene products she had in her purse, she changed into her clothes from the night before and waited nervously for Andrew to get out of bed. After an hour of waiting, she resorted to waking him up. Margaret sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and tentatively stroked his hair. Andrew slowly began to stir. _Finally_ , she thought. Margaret needed to be alone with her thoughts before another evening presumably with Andrew.

Although he was still groggy, Andrew suddenly pulled Margaret on top of him, giving her an almost brotherly bear hug.

"Andrew! Jesus!" She shrieked.

She didn't know whether she found his sudden ease with physical closeness annoying or charming. Much to her disappointment, she felt the latter.

"Good morning, baby." He said in a mocking but flirtatious tone.

Margaret made an overly animated cringing expression, but she was secretly thrilled with the new nickname.

"I have an idea."

 _Oh no_ , Margaret thought. Of course he had an idea. He was full of crazy ideas, like falling in love with her and willingly embarking on a relationship with his boss. What could this possibly be?

"I want to take you on a date, a real date. I'll pick you up from your place at 7, and I'll take you to a nice restaurant. I may or may not bring you chocolates, because I know you hate flowers." He smirked.

"That sounds… very romantic." She said.

Margaret was in her own world, already worrying about what they would talk about for a whole dinner, and what she would wear, and if she would do something awkward, and if he would kiss her afterwards, and if she would sleepover again… Andrew could see that her mind was reeling.

"Try not to stress about it, Margaret." He tried to reassure her. "I think sometimes you forget that I've known you for three years. I fell in love with you because I know you so well, and all of your quirks and fears don't scare me. I promise."

Margaret felt that all-too-familiar lump in her throat at this statement. It was just what she needed to hear, even though she wasn't sure if she believed him. But how could she not? She could see the sincerity in his eyes. He really did love her, even if she couldn't come to terms with it yet.

Margaret didn't know what to say. She silenced her usual blubbering by resting her head on his chest, and he held her tighter. They were in this together.

* * *

Margaret had spent the last two hours getting ready, and she still wasn't done. She had taken a much needed shower and blowdried her hair to tame her frizz. She could tell Andrew preferred her natural waves to her serious ponytail, so she let her hair down. She tried keeping her makeup light, making her skin glowy and applying minimal eyeliner. She just couldn't decide what to wear. She had a fancier dress she had been saving for a work party later in the year, and although she knew she looked great in it, it was meant for a corporate occasion and maybe not date appropriate. She had some casual sundresses that she hadn't worn for ages, but Andrew had made it clear that they were going to a fancy place. He would be here soon; she had no time to buy something. _Fuck, what am I going to do._ She thought for the millionth time that day. Then, she noticed something in the back of her closet, a glimpse of violet hidden by all her structured blazers and bland pencil skirts. It was a dress she had bought for her 30th birthday. She had toyed with the idea of throwing herself a party and being social for once, catching up with old friends and just trying to enjoy herself, and she thought buying a dress would force her to actually plan the occasion. Not surprisingly, work and her own social anxiety had gotten in the way, and the dress had been sitting in her closet ever since. It was a gorgeous dress. It was a deep violet that brought out the mahogany in her eyes, with a plunging neckline enhanced by layers of sheer fabric that accentuated her tiny bust. It hugged her hips in just the right way, and it barely grazed the top of her knee. It was perfect.

Andrew arrived at 7 pm sharp. He buzzed her apartment while Margaret tried to act like she hadn't been anxiously pacing for the past hour. She met him outside, fumbling with the heavy door before turning towards him.

Andrew couldn't help but stare. She was _breathtaking_. He loved her natural hair. Her waves perfectly framed her face, softening her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, making the sweetness he knew was inside of her shine through. Her dress accentuated her curves in all the right ways and lengthened her toned legs, making her look undeniably sexy.

Margaret stole a glance at him from beneath her thick eyelashes. He was wearing a simple gray suit, but instead of his usual tie that he wore at work, his crisp white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to see a glimpse of chest hair. Margaret couldn't help but imagine unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way.

"Hi" was all Margaret could say. She was still recovering from the sight of him.

Andrew grabbed her hand firmly, leading her towards whatever mystery place they were going.

"You look absolutely beautiful." He said earnestly.

"You're don't look so bad yourself." Margaret replied.

They continued to chat on their way to the restaurant. At first it felt forced and awkward, both of them preoccupied with their pent up anxiety about their first date. But the conversation quickly became natural. Andrew asked Margaret about their surroundings as they went, with Margaret volunteering anecdotes about her favorite places to shop, the neighborhood cat, and even her favorite trees and flowers as they passed them. The familiar companionship that made them fall in love in Alaska was returning, and they were both beginning to feel at home in their relationship.

The playful banter continued during their meal. At one point, Margaret made a dry remark about Andrew always showing up disheveled for work in the mornings, and they embarked on a fit of side-splitting laughter that rendered them both speechless.

"I never knew you were this funny." Andrew remarked between laughs.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Margaret said slyly.

 _I'm doing it!_ She thought. _I'm flirting! This isn't so hard._ She almost forgot the nervousness that had been plaguing her for the past week.

Their laughter subsided, and they sat across from each other, feeling like the only two people in the world, enjoying a silent moment of companionship. Andrew had requested to be in a small, separate room in the back of the restaurant. The only thing they could hear was a slow song playing softly in the background,

" _...When the evening shadows and the stars appear_

 _And there is no one there to dry your tears_

 _Oh, I could hold you for a million years_

 _To make you feel my love"_

"Do you want to dance?" Andrew said softly.

There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice, like he knew whatever she said would touch something private and protected inside of his heart, something once only belonging to him that was now being given to this woman he loved so dearly. It felt like his love for her was so big, so full, that sometimes it was too much to handle, for both of them.

"I… I don't." Margaret stuttered. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." She said as she lowered her head anxiously.

Andrew's shoulders dropped a little at her response. She felt as if she had let him down somehow. He's probably scared of rejection, she thought. Afterall, she had left him at the altar in front of his entire family, and even before that, he was constantly walking on eggshells around her at work, afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. Of course, she hadn't made it any easier for him, but it seemed like Andrew had a part of him that was so worn down from his father's disappointment, and her constant criticism of him, and now her constant rejection of him. She could tell she was breaking him, and it broke her.

"I just… I don't know how to dance." She backtracked.

It was the truth. She had never gone to school dances, and how else would she have learned?

"Will you teach me?" She said with a hint of encouragement.

She could feel Andrew crawling back inside his shell after her initial declination. She needed him to come back to her. She needed him.

Andrew silently got up and offered her his hand. She took it firmly, trying to tell him that she wanted him, needed him, even if she was scared. Andrew gripped her hand in return and led her to the small space beside their table. He placed her other hand on his shoulder and gripped her waist, pulling her close to him.

" _...I know you haven't made your mind up yet_

 _But I will never do you wrong_

 _I've known it from the moment that we met_

 _No doubt in my mind where you belong"_

They swayed slowly, just trying to take in the feeling of each other, both not daring to look in the other's eyes. Margaret immediately relaxed in his arms. _Dancing's not so hard_ , she thought. She let him direct her movements, guiding her body to sway with his as they listened to the song.

"I always loved this song." She rose up to whisper to him.

"I remember my parents would put it on our record player while they were cooking. Some of my fondest childhood memories have this song playing in the background."

This was probably the most personal detail she'd ever told him, besides their first night in Alaska when she revealed her hiatus from sex and addiction to the psychic network. She wasn't even nervous about telling him. She knew Andrew would want to hear it, and she finally trusted herself enough to be vulnerable with him.

Andrew knew this was monumental for her, to tell him something so personal. He felt like her words went right to his heart, to a place where no one has ever touched, and would stay there forever.

" _I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_

 _There's nothing that I wouldn't do_

 _Go to the ends of this Earth for you_

 _To make you feel my love"_

He put his hand on the back of her neck, gently drawing her head to his chest as they continued to sway. She hugged him tighter, letting him know she she was there for him, too, giving him all the love pent up in her heart from years of loneliness. Something was happening. The stars were aligning. They could both feel it.


	3. Chapter 3

Margaret ended up sleeping over at Andrew's again after their date. She had put on his mom's old pj's and the same sweatshirt from the night before, brushed her teeth with the toothbrush she stored in his medicine cabinet, and wordlessly climbed into bed practically before he had even taken off his shoes. They didn't have to talk to know that they weren't going to have sex yet. _One step at a time_ , they both thought. Their date was emotionally exhausting; it was enough for one day. They held each other as they slept, but this time Margaret held Andrew back, trying to give him the love and reassurance he always gave her. She had never thought he needed it, but she was beginning to discover that relationships are a two-way street.

They woke up in each other's arms. Andrew was hard, _again_. It's like a rude awakening for both of them each morning; there's this undeniable sexual need between them, yet there's nothing they can do about it at this point in their relationship, and it's killing them. It felt different this time. Margaret's initial shock of being presented with the fact that Andrew has, well, needs, just like every other horny guy she's ever dated, despite how respectful and unobtrusive he is around her, was starting to wear off. Instead, she was more curious. _Is this because I'm in his bed or does this happen to him every morning?_

Almost like he was reading her mind, Andrew explained.

"I swear this doesn't happen every morning. I'm really sorry." He blushed.

She could tell he was intensely embarrassed and uncomfortable. Much to her surprise, Margaret didn't share his embarrassment. Up until last night, she hadn't thought about how difficult this must be for him, and not just this morning. He, too, had insecurities and fears. He usually hid it so well.

"Baby, it's ok. You can't help it" She pulled him into her embrace, gently stroking the back of his neck.

She just called him baby, unironically. _What the fuck is happening to me?_ She thought. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You just called me baby." He chuckled.

 _Fuck._ "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"I think it's sweet, baby." He said as he kissed her forehead. He said it with a hint of sarcasm, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

* * *

They decided to spend the day together. Afterall, it was supposed to be their honeymoon. Andrew was on the phone with his parents for about two hours, explaining over and over again to them that yes, he is in love with Margaret, and yes, she is in love with him, and yes, they fell in love that weekend but they didn't discuss it before Margaret left him at the altar, and no, they had zero plans to use the baby-making blanket anytime soon. When Andrew got off the phone, he found Margaret frozen in the kitchen, biting her nails while her brow furrowed in anxious thought. Andrew walked up beside her. She still didn't look at him. She jumped when he gently touched her back.

"Jesus, Andrew." She exclaimed. "You scared me. Is everything okay? Are your parents mad? What did your dad say? Is Gammy okay? What about Gertrude, what did she think? Does-"

"Margaret!" He interrupted. "Everything is fine. My dad's not mad, although I think he's still skeptical. My mom talked him into being supportive. Gammy's fine. They want to know when they can see us again. They remembered you said something about going up there for Christmas?"

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. _They don't hate me_. She thought. _Thank God_.

"Yeah I suggested it when I was getting fitted for my dress…" She trailed off absentmindedly.

"Margaret, that's fantastic!" His eyes lit up. "Alaska in the winter is beautiful. I _know_ you would love it. Every year my parents do a huge Christmas lights display and the whole town comes to watch it! We'll put up a Christmas tree, and exchange gifts, and I can teach you how to ski!"

She had never seen Andrew this excited. She had forgotten what it's like to have family traditions, and spend holidays from work with people who care about you. It sounded… nice. Maybe some of his excitement would rub off on her.

She broke into a smile, the same warm, genuine smile that made him fall in love with her.

"That sounds really nice, Andrew. I'm… looking forward to it."

He could tell she really meant it. He kissed her then. He took her face in his hands and rubbed reassuring circles on her soft cheeks. She kissed him back, welcoming him into her mouth without hesitation, just two people, trying to become one. He prodded her tongue gently at first, slowly building up a fiery rhythm between them, give and take, give and take. She snaked one hand up to his face, grazing his chiseled jawline that she loved so much, while her other hand found its way into his silky hair, bringing him impossibly close.

They were really going at it—usually one of them would stop the kiss before it went too far, before they crossed a line they didn't dare speak about—but this time, the kiss was too good to stop. It was like all of the love and insecurities and anger and longing that had been building between them was bubbling up to the surface, push and pull, push and pull. They both moaned. They weren't sure who it was, Andrew couldn't tell where he ended and Margaret began.

Andrew, initially intoxicated by her kiss, regained his consciousness and dared to take the step they'd been waiting for. He slowly moved his hand up from her waist, barely grazing the underside of her breast. Margaret immediately tensed up. _Shit._ He thought. He really thought she was ready. That kiss was different; it felt like, for the first time, her guard was truly down.

Margaret snapped back to reality when she felt his hand on her breast. Almost instinctively, she tensed up, and the moment of honesty between them was gone almost as quickly as it began. She stumbled back from his embrace, panting, disoriented, trying to reestablish her footing, trying not to lose it in front of him. Her hands were shaking.

"Margaret… what's wrong." He panted. He was all worked up too, trying to come back to Earth.

"I…" She was searching for the words. "I can't do this, Andrew. You went too fast."

She shot him a glare from under her eyelashes. She was back to her old tactics, a wall of fiery anger building up inside of her to keep her from falling apart.

"Are you serious? I barely touched you." Andrew said defensively. He was involuntarily mirroring her anger. He wasn't her subservient assistant anymore. He didn't owe her an apology for something he didn't do. He could feel the heat rising in his throat.

"You did touch me! And you would've gone further if I didn't stop you! I never gave you permission to touch me like that, and it was honestly disgusting."

She could feel the fire rising in her throat, her voice breaking with uncontrollable anger.

"Margaret, you're completely overreacting. I barely fucking touched you. You need to calm down." Andrew said coolly, with an intense current of rage running beneath the surface.

"I'm overreacting?! You're fucking crazy, Andrew. You crossed the line."

Before he could say anything, Margaret ran to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She was still breathing heavily, this time from anger instead of love. Her hands were still shaking. She gripped the countertop as hard as she could, squeezing it until her knuckles turned white. She could feel a familiar lump in her throat, choking it down before the tears could spill out uncontrollably. Eventually, her breathing slowed and her hands steadied, and she was left with a deep ache in her heart that left her empty and broken.

She had overreacted, she knew that, but there was so much Andrew didn't know that was causing her so much pain. She knew she would have to tell him eventually, so they could move forward in their relationship, but she was scared, so terribly scared.

* * *

It had been two hours and Margaret was still holed up in the bathroom. At first, Andrew had been so angry he could hardly think. He paced around the kitchen island to calm himself down, before splashing cold water on his face and settling himself on the couch to wait for Margaret to confront him. Even though it took practically ten steps to walk from one side of the apartment to the other, Margaret still found a way to distance herself from him.

He wasn't angry anymore. He knew there was something else going on with her that was made her so reactive when he tried to take the next step in their physical relationship. But what could it possibly be? He knew she hadn't been with a man in a year in a half, but he would think that would make her more excited to have sex, not less. He knew she was scared of intimacy, but how scared? Was it possible she would never want to have sex with him, just out of fear?

His anger was replaced with worry. It had been two hours and she hadn't made a sound. Was she okay in there? He contemplated knocking on the door, trying to coax her out when he heard the bathroom door open. By the time he turned his head, he could tell she had already escaped into his bedroom. It was 11 pm by now; she was probably tired. They would talk about it in the morning, Andrew decided.

Andrew opened the bedroom door. The lights were still on but Margaret was curled up on the side of the bed, probably pretending to be asleep so they wouldn't have to talk. Andrew respected her silent plea and crawled under the covers, switching the lamp off into total darkness. They were in the same bed, but they were worlds apart as they fell into a fitful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Margaret had been tossing and turning all night. She decided to brave it and look at the clock. It read 1:27 am. _Shit._ She still had the whole night to agonize about how she would apologize to Andrew without completely losing her shit in front of him. She rolled on her back, still as far away as possible from him without falling off the bed.

He initially appeared to be sleeping, but he uncomfortably rolled on his back, then switched to his side, until resorting to the same position he was in initially.

 _Yup, he's definitely awake,_ Margaret thought. She wanted so badly to snuggle into his arms, and let out all her fears and worries to him, but who knew if he would listen to her now? She clearly hurt him. How could she not have? She was yelling at him for doing practically nothing. _I fucked up so bad._

Andrew could not fall asleep. He was worried sick about Margaret. She clearly wasn't okay and he wanted to help her, to be there for her, but he knew he needed to give her space. He had already pushed her too far today and he couldn't risk pushing her any more. He wanted so badly to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright, and take all of her pain away from her. He didn't care anymore that she yelled at him. He knew something was wrong and he let himself get worked up when he should've asked her what's going on instead of being defensive. _I fucked up so bad._

"Andrew?" Margaret said quietly, practically in a whisper. There was uncertainty in her voice; she was on faulty ground.

"Yeah, Margaret? I'm here."

That was all she needed to hear. He was there for her. He would listen. _Of course he will._ She thought. _He always does._

In that moment, Margaret wanted to touch him, to reach out and grab his hand, but she couldn't. She stayed in her own space, letting the darkness swallow her. She tried to steady herself before speaking. She failed.

"Andrew, I'm so sorry that I yelled at you. It's just that everything felt like it was happening so fast and I wasn't expecting it and I just got scared. I promise I never meant to hurt you and I'm just so sorry."

By the end of her apology her voice broke in tears. Even in the pitch black, Andrew could tell she was crying. When he switched the lamp on he could see her tear-stained face and the deep sadness in her eyes. It pained him to see her so broken. He sat up against the headboard and pulled Margaret into his lap, cradling her with all the strength in his heart. Her crying escalated into loud sobs as she buried her face in his chest. Andrew wrapped his arms tightly around her tiny frame as he gently rocked her back and forth, back and forth.

"Shhh, baby. It's okay. You're okay. I've got you. It's okay to cry, sweetheart. We're gonna be okay. I promise I'm not mad at you. I love you. I've got you." Andrew said soothingly.

He kept reassuring her, rocking her, rubbing her back, cradling her head as years of pent up anguish came pouring out of her. Slowly, her sobs subsided. Her breathing was still hitched, and she let out an occasional whimper while Andrew's unwavering arms held her tight to his chest, never letting go.

"I didn't want you to see me like this." Margaret managed to say through her irregular breaths.

"Oh, honey. It's okay. It helps to cry. I remember my mom would hold me just like this when I cried, even when I got too big to sit on her lap. It always made me feel better. I hope I can do the same for you."

"You are helping me Andrew. Thank you. It's just… there are things I need to talk to you about… about… sex… and it's really embarrassing for me… and I just got overwhelmed." Margaret said.

Andrew kissed the top of her head thoughtfully before saying:

"Whenever you're ready, Margaret, I'm here to listen. Whatever it is, I promise I won't judge you. Communication is an important part of any relationship, and if you're having a problem, there's no way I can help unless we talk about it."

"I know, and I'm ready to talk about it." She said with a bit more confidence.

 _Where the hell do I start?_ She thought. There was so much to say, and it was all so overwhelming.

"Well I already told you that I haven't had sex in over a year and a half. But what I didn't tell you was…" She took a shaky breath, the tears threatening to return. "The last time… I got hurt pretty badly. The guy I was with was too rough with me and I ended up bleeding a lot. He didn't even care that he hurt me; he just left the same night. I let him do it because I was so lonely and desperate but I _never_ thought it could hurt like that. "

She cried again at the memory. All alone, bleeding, wounded, she swore she would never have sex again, and now here was this kind, gorgeous man, but she couldn't seem to get past her fears. It was excruciating,

"Oh sweetheart." Andrew said sympathetically. The thought of Margaret, hurt and alone with nobody to turn to, broke his heart to no end.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you." He squeezed her a little tighter.

"I won't ever hurt you. Whenever we do have sex, we'll take it really slow, okay? If you ever want to stop, at any point, just tell me, and we'll stop, no questions asked. We'll make sure that your body is ready so that it doesn't hurt. I promise."

Margaret breathed a deep sigh of relief. There was more to say, but she already felt better. She knew Andrew was telling the truth. _Of course he would never hurt me. What was there to be scared about?_ He clearly knew what he was doing, and he would never push her too fast. It was going to be okay.

"The last guy I was with, he told me…" She tried to steady her breath. "He told me I was bad in bed, that I never did anything to please him, and I just don't want you to feel that way about me, because I don't think I could take it."

She was crying again at the thought of Andrew being dissatisfied with her. She knew that he would never criticize her even if he _did_ think she was bad in bed, but she would be able to tell what he thought, and she didn't think she could bare it, knowing that he wasn't happy with her.

"Oh honey, I know for a fact I won't think you're bad in bed." He said lightly.

"Wait, what? How?" Margaret was genuinely confused. How could he tell already? They'd only gone as far as making out.

"Because… I've never felt this with anyone else. I know it sounds cheesy, but when we kiss, it's like magic. I feel like I'm on fire when I'm with you. I can hardly control it."

"Really? You do?" She was genuinely surprised. No one had ever said that to her. She didn't even think it was possible for her to make a man feel that way.

"I feel it too, Andrew… I've never felt this before." She said bashfully.

He kissed her forehead, rubbing her back, trying to ease away her pain.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me, baby?" He said.

"Actually, there is one more thing." Margaret paused.

"This one might be the most embarrassing thing." She chuckled ruefully.

Andrew laughed with her, commiserating in their journey to find their footing.

"The thing is… I've never had an orgasm." She said defeatedly. It was true, she never got any real pleasure from sex. The guys she had been with had never tried to please her, and the whole thing was usually over almost as soon as it began.

"What?" Andrew could hardly believe it. "You've never had an orgasm? _Ever?_ In your whole life?"

"Well, at least I don't think I have…" Margaret was beginning to doubt her decision to tell him this. What kind of woman has never even had an orgasm? It was humiliating.

Andrew could sense the embarrassment in her voice. He didn't mean to fuel it; he was just in shock. He had so many questions.

"Hey, it's okay Margaret, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's something we can explore together. Is it okay if we talk about it more?"

"Yeah, okay." She tried to reassure herself that this talking thing was a good idea.

"You've never had an orgasm, ever? Do you masturbate? Have you gotten anywhere with that?"

Margaret couldn't help but laugh at his shameless questions. She was beginning to feel more at ease with this conversation, though. Andrew's confidence fueled her own.

"Well… I've tried, but I never get very far. I have no idea what I'm doing so then I just give up. I mean, what woman can't even touch herself? It's so embarrassing."

"No, Margaret, it's okay. Everyone's different. Maybe you can try it again and see how it goes. It's good to get to know your body." Andrew said matter-of-factly, as if this was the most normal conversation in the world.

"Is there anything you know need from me, once we do have sex? I'll do everything I can to make it enjoyable for you."

"I honestly have no idea… it's been so long. I think I forgot how it works." She said facetiously.

They both laughed at that.

Margaret sighed before saying "I've never told anyone before, but this time I just didn't want to fake it. That wouldn't be fair to you."

"I appreciate that, Margaret. It's good that you told me so we can figure it out together. If it doesn't happen on the first try, you don't need to fake it for me. Just be honest and we'll try again when you're ready, ok? I promise it will happen eventually."

Andrew held her more, drying her tears with his sleeve before turning out the lights. They spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, no anger, no secrets, all love.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm so so sorry for the long wait for new chapters. There is supposed to be a chapter before this one about Andrew and Margaret's day together, but I guess I'm just suffering from writer's block with it. Instead of not finishing the story, I decided to write two more chapters and finish it up. Maybe just let your imagination fill in the gaps. This is the chapter when Andrew and Margaret _finally_ consummate their relationship:) Enjoy!

After a somewhat exhausting day of cleaning and organizing, Margaret and Andrew slumped on his loveseat, admiring their hard work. Margaret curled up beside him, breathing in his familiar scent. Warm, manly, he felt like home. He felt safe. She loved him with every piece of her. There was no denying it. She looked up at him; his chiseled jawline could easily make him look cold and distant if it weren't for his kind, sensitive eyes gazing back at her with the same love and commitment she felt for him. Margaret pulled him close to her, resting her forehead against his, breathing in his scent, locking eyes with him. She wanted him, needed him, so badly. There was nothing to hold back from anymore. She was so far gone.

"I think I want to have sex with you." She whispered.

Andrew pulled away from her slightly so he could look at her. He could see she was telling the truth. She had caught him off guard. They had only just talked last night, but it was time. He felt it too.

"Are you sure? I don't want to rush anything."

"I'm sure." She said. "I want this. I want you, Andrew."

He nodded silently and kissed her. It was a chaste kissed, almost friendly, saying "I like you as much as I love you." She quickly deepened the kiss, letting her tongue mingle with his as she shifted herself so she could sit on his lap. She planted sweet kisses on his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his jawline, and down to his neck. She nipped and sucked on his pressure point, making him him harden with anticipation. Margaret tensed momentarily when she first felt his erection, but she quickly became familiar with it. Everytime she brushed against him, felt his hardness on her thigh, he whimpered with anticipation. For the first time she felt powerful. It wasn't the kind of power that's driven by fear or superiority; it was power derived from within. They were equals.

Andrew felt Margaret intentionally grind against him, willing him to harden. _She's never done this before_. He thought. For the first time, he felt like he didn't have to protect her. He was there for her, needing her, being with her, but she was doing the same for him. They were equals.

Andrew grasped her thighs on either side of him and with seemingly no effort, he carried her to the bedroom. He gently laid her on the bed, still holding her thighs as he continued to kiss her.

"Wait a second." He breathed into her neck.

"Let me go get a condom. I don't want to get too far without it."

She nodded and he almost ran to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet with haste before he finally found the box and set it on the nightstand. Andrew settled himself on top of her again, and she quickly found her way back to his neck, her gentle bites eliciting a moan from deep within his throat. Margaret led her hands up his shirt, tracing his coiled abdominal muscles and making him moan. Andrew leaned to the side so he could pull off his t shirt, Margaret wasting no time by exploring his newly exposed chest. He had the perfect amount of chest hair, just enough to look manly without being macho. Andrew was clearly enjoying the attention she paid to his body, moaning with every new kiss and bite, but now, _it was her turn_. He decided.

Andrew kissed her on the lips again, letting her know he was in control now, but he needed her like he needed air. He breathed in her flushed lips, then sucked on her neck, making her quiver. He toyed with the bottom of her t shirt, gently running his hands over her stomach.

"Can I take this off?" He asked her with a gentle firmness.

She nodded. Margaret pressed on Andrew's chest, signaling to him that she wanted to sit up. He helped her pull her shirt over her head and discarded it on the floor. Andrew couldn't help but take in her form. Her stomach was perfectly toned, but she still had curves, and she was wearing a simple t shirt bra, sexy but minimalist, just like Margaret. Her breasts were small, but they suited her. He had been dreaming of this for what seemed like forever. She was perfect.

Andrew settled himself back on top of her, slowly trailing his kisses to her newly exposed chest and sternum. He gently cupped her breast, over her bra, and massaged her as he continued his kisses. Margaret squirmed beneath him, clearly enjoying the ministrations he was working on her body. Andrew ran his fingers over her bra strap, silently asking her to take it off. She obliged and pushed down her straps while he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. He slowly pulled away the garment, leaving an expanse of gorgeous creamy skin behind. Her soft pink nipples were already hardened, standing alert to his touch. Before he could touch them, Margaret called to him.

"Andrew" She pleaded.

"Yeah, baby? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry they're small." She said bashfully, looking down at her breasts.

"Margaret, you are absolutely perfect. You have nothing to be sorry about." He assured her.

With that, he lowered his lips to her chest again, taking her left nipple in his mouth while he used his right hand to stimulate her other breast. He nipped and sucked at her chest, before switching his mouth to her right breast.

Margaret could hardly contain herself. Every time he even slightly moved his mouth on her, she couldn't help but squirm and shift in response. She wound her fingers in his hair, anchoring herself as he brought her higher and higher. She had _never_ felt this before, _ever_ , and it was only just beginning.

Andrew slipped off her yoga pants without missing a beat. He massaged her thigh, slowly increasing in firmness as he worked his way between her legs. He tentatively rubbed her over her cotton panties, already soaked with anticipation. Were his hands shaking or was that her? They couldn't tell.

"You're so wet, baby." He moaned into her ear.

"Oh… sorry. This doesn't usually happen." She admitted. She had never been this wet before. She didn't even know if this was normal. _Hopefully he doesn't mind_. She thought.

"Sweetheart, it's a good thing. I promise. I think it's sexy." He took a moment to meet her eyes and saw them soften at his compliment. She needed to hear that from him.

"Can I take these off?" Andrew said as he toyed with the band of her panties.

"Yes." Margaret whispered. She could barely speak; she was so worked up.

Andrew slid her panties down her smooth legs, discarding them on the floor without breaking eye contact. He didn't glance down. He didn't touch her, not yet. She was completely naked beneath him; they both needed time to adjust. Andrew took a moment to breath in her scent. He could smell her fruity shampoo, her signature sophisticated perfume, her musky wetness, her.

Margaret looked into Andrew's kind, earnest eyes, waiting for her to let him know when he could look down. She gave him a quick, firm kiss, and then looked at him expectantly. She was ready.

Andrew looked down. Margaret's inner thighs were spread to accommodate for his body between them. Her muscles were relaxed, patient, willing to respond only to him. The folds between her legs were glistening with sweet anticipation, opening up to him, rosy pink, almost as if she was blushing for the sake of being noticed.

Suddenly, Andrew was nervous. He had imagined this moment for what seemed like forever, Margaret beneath him, sweating, wanting him. In his fantasies he just saw skin too smooth, lips too plump, and hair too shiny to be real. But now here she was, every detail in front of him, every texture and color in all her glorious complexities. She was real, and he didn't know if he could handle it.

"Andrew?"

He could hear the uncertainty in her voice. _Do you love me? Do you want me? Do you need me?_ She was saying.

"You can touch me." She said with a forced reassurance. In that moment, she wasn't sure who needed it most.

Andrew let out a deep, unconscious sigh, exhaling all of his anxiety and frustration.

"You are so beautiful, Margaret."

He meant it. He liked the real her. He liked her details. She looked different that he thought she would, but now he was getting to know her. She looked how she should, like herself.

Andrew ran his fingers delicately through her folds, before rubbing gentle circles on her center. He started slowly, trying different pressures to see how she responded. Margaret was quivering and breathing heavily as he brought her closer and closer to her unknown edge.

Andrew paused for a moment, looking at Margaret before he proceeded. She gave him a slight nod before he slowly pushed one finger inside of her. Her wince quickly turned to pleasure as he began to move his finger inside of her, gradually adding a second finger and stroking her g spot.

Margaret was getting wetter every second. She was breathing heavily from pleasure, except her brow was furrowed as if she was concentrating.

"Margaret."

Andrew paused his movements, forcing her to open her eyes to look at him.

"Don't stop." She commanded, as if he was her assistant filing papers again.

"Baby, it will happen when it happens. This takes time. Your body needs to go at its own pace." Andrew assured her. He could tell she felt like she had something to prove. He wanted her to let herself go. He didn't want her to feel like she owed him anything.

"Okay. I believe you." But he wasn't sure if she did. Andrew could feel her slipping away, back into her hardened shell. He needed her to come back.

Margaret could see his eyes darken. _Was he mad? What was he thinking? Did I do something wrong?_ His erection was beginning to soften. _Does he not like this? Does he think I'm bad at this?_ Her hands started shaking. She could feel tears threatening to escape. Suddenly she remembered she was naked, and he was not, and all she wanted to do was put her clothes back on and pretend this never happened.

Margaret started breathing heavily, this time from anxiousness rather than pleasure. Andrew could tell she was starting to freak out.

"Hey, baby. Let's take a break, okay?"

Andrew rolled off of Margaret and quickly pulled her to his side, wrapping his arms around her naked back, trying to steady her.

"Do you want to stop?" Andrew asked gently. They had covered a lot of ground as it was; he didn't want to push her beyond her limits.

"No!" Margaret said defensively. She wanted this. She was committed at this point. There was no way she could put her clothes back on and go back to their normal life; this was too monumental. She needed to see how it would end.

"I mean…" She tried to backtrack. Her hands were shaking again. She couldn't tell if she doubted herself or Andrew more in that moment.

"I want to keep going. Do you want to?"

Andrew could hear the vulnerability in her voice. Suddenly he could tell that she was just was worried about him as he was about her. They were equals again.

"Of course I do, sweetheart."

Andrew gestured down to his deflated boxers.

"Sometimes I can't do two things at once, that's all."

They both laughed at that. They were friends again.

They let a few minutes pass, kissing gently, getting to know the way they felt in each other's arms.

"Andrew… can I touch you?" Margaret asked, wide-eyed with nervousness.

"Of course you can." Andrew said before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

Andrew slid his boxers off, now completely naked. Margaret didn't dare look. She took her time, running her hand on his abdomen beneath the covers, following the thickening trail of hair down to the vee between his legs. Then, she froze.

"I… I don't know what to do." She said helplessly. It wasn't that she hadn't touched a man before, but she had been alone for so long and she had never had sex this intimate, this romantic, this exposing for both parties.

"It's okay. I'll show you." Andrew said as he took her hand in his own and guided her towards his member. He saw her eyes widen as he gently wrapped her fingers around himself and slowly moved her hand up and down with his own. Andrew moaned as they began to increase the speed, involuntarily grabbing the bed sheets, leaving Margaret's hand independently stroking him.

Margaret realized that she was actually enjoying this once her nervousness faded away. She liked looking in his hooded eyes, seeing how her actions elicited little moans and growls from deep within his throat. She liked that she was able to please him. She held his head while she continued to stroke him, rubbing circles on the back of his neck, protecting him, just like he did for her.

"Wait, baby. Stop." Andrew said between ragged breaths. "I don't want to get too far without you."

She understood. It was time. They could both feel it. Margaret reached for the condom on her side of the bed and handed it to Andrew. He skillfully unwrapped it before pulling the sheets below his waist so he could see what he was doing.

Now Margaret could see all of him. He was big, bigger than she expected, and it didn't look like he could be any harder. Her mind began racing. _Is this going to hurt? How is he going to fit? What if the condom breaks?_

Andrew finished putting the condom on and settled himself on top of Margaret, now just inches away from her entrance. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Hey, Margaret." Andrew put his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

"Hey." Margaret said. She could see all of the love in Andrew's eyes. He was so kind and earnest, yet strong and masculine. Even when her familiar fears came crawling back, she knew he would never, ever hurt her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Andrew asked patiently.

"I'm sure." Margaret said with more confidence. "I love you so much, Andrew."

"I love you too, Margaret, so so much."

Andrew lowered himself to her entrance, before slowly pushing into her, trying to give her enough time to adjust for his size. She was so wet that he entered her easier than he expected, but she was tight. Andrew couldn't help but moan as he entered her, while Margaret whimpered slightly in plain.

"Are you okay?" Andrew panted, now fully inside of her.

Margaret could only nod; she was so overcome with a feeling she had never felt before, a feeling of pleasure. Once the pain subsided, she wanted nothing more than him.

Andrew began increasing his speed, Margaret's moans indicating that she was overcome with pleasure. They fell into a steady rhythm, hands going anywhere they could feel, lips kissing anywhere they could touch. Their togetherness ebbed and flowed, Andrew moaning when Margaret shifted, Margaret quivering when Andrew thrust.

Margaret could feel her orgasm building beyond its normal low simmer. This time she was on fire. She could feel this unknown pleasure deep within her awakening with each thrust. She could hardly think.

Andrew was trying to hold himself back; he didn't want to finish before he was sure Margaret was ready, but it was so difficult. For the first time, he could feel her, all around him, so connected that he didn't know where he ended and she began.

Margaret was becoming more vocal by the second. She was close. She didn't know if she could hold on much longer.

"Let go, Margaret." Andrew breathed.

That was all she needed. Andrew could feel her walls contract around him as she came. Her orgasm was allconsuming; she could feel the heat travel to every inch of her body. She moaned and shook and called his name. It felt like it would never end. For the first time, she gave herself completely to someone else. She was free.

Waves and waves of pleasure rolled over her as Andrew continued to thrust, quickly tumbling over his own edge. His whole body contracted as he spilled into her everything he had within him. He called her name— _here I am; I am giving myself to you; I need you—_ he was saying.

Andrew collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, trying to come back to Earth. Margaret was seeing stars.

Their breathing began to slow. Once Andrew felt like he had voluntary control over his body again, he managed to prop himself up to look at Margaret. He gently wiped the sweat from her brow before kissing her forehead. She had never looked more beautiful to him.

Margaret managed to open her eyes amid her hazy, post-orgasm bliss. He was there. He always would be.

"Thank you." She whispered.

* * *

Andrew hobbled to the bathroom to take off his condom and hurried back to bed. Margaret couldn't help but stare at him in all his naked glory. Despite her exhaustion, the sight of his toned muscles and golden skin was enough to make her want to fuck him all over again.

Andrew fluffed their pillows and straightened their disheveled sheets before wrapping his arms around Margaret, so her body was flush against his.

"Andrew, that was amazing." Margaret gushed. She was too overcome to be shy anymore.

"When can we do it again?"

"As soon as you want, baby. As soon as you want."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, wrapped up in a lovemaking daze.


	6. Chapter 6

Margaret awoke in Andrew's arms, suddenly aware that they were both naked and this was a completely new situation for them. Her jolt of nervousness subsided when the events of last night came rushing back to her. The way Andrew held her, touched her, said her name, and stayed with her after, all felt like a dream. But this wasn't a dream, and she could hardly believe how lucky she was.

Andrew was still sound asleep. Margaret knew he wasn't a morning person, and even though she loved snuggling with him, she was getting restless. She tried to remove herself from his embrace with no luck. Andrew sleepily opened his eyes before she could get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" He said playfully.

"I have to get up, Andrew!" She said with fake annoyance.

"But we have nowhere to be!" He said, mimicking her tone.

"I can't sleep all day like you can."

"Hey, I don't appreciate that." Andrew said as he planted light kisses on her neck.

"Baby." She said while trying to escape his reach. "You can sleep more while I get ready, okay?"

"Okay, fine." Andrew said with mocking disappointment. "Wake me up if you need anything."

By the time Margaret was done in the bathroom, he was already asleep again. _How do men do that?_ She wondered. She wasn't used to sharing a space with a man. There was so much she had to learn. She couldn't wait.

* * *

Andrew awoke an hour later to the smell of coffee and Margaret's perfume on his pillow. He slipped on his boxers and a t-shirt before wandering into the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of Margaret in underwear and his sweatshirt, sipping coffee and reading the paper. He could get used to this.

"Good morning, beautiful." Andrew said before giving Margaret a kiss and wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"Good morning." Was all she could muster. He looked different to her now, like for the first time she could see him for who he really was.

"I have a present for you."

"Andrew, you didn't have to get me anything!" Margaret exclaimed. "You've done so much already."

"Just open it." Andrew beamed before handing her a slim box.

Margaret opened it carefully, as if it could be broken in her hands. It was the necklace that Gammy gave her in Alaska, the one that Margaret left behind when she ran from the altar.

"Andrew, I can't accept this." Margaret said as her voice cracked. _How did he still want to give this to me after everything I put him through?_ She wondered. She felt like she didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve his love or his family's love or their precious heirlooms.

"Oh, sweetheart." Andrew's voice softened; he could tell she was about to cry. "I want you to have it. Gammy wanted me to give it to you after you went back to New York. It belongs to you, Margaret."

His last words broke her before she could fight back her tears. She stifled her cries with her hands while hanging her head.

"Hey, baby. Shhhhh." Andrew soothed as he pulled her to his chest. "I know that everything is new right now, but this is it for me. You're the first person I want to talk to when I wake up in the morning, and you're the last person I want to talk to when I go to bed. I just want to be close to you. I want to know you. I want to be there for you when you need someone. I want to laugh with you, and cry with you, and fight with you, and marry you and have babies with you because I love you, Margaret. I think I always have."

"Andrew… I… I don't even know what to say." She managed to say between her cries.

"Take your time. You don't have to know what to say."

There was no hint of disappointment or judgement in his voice. He knew she would speak when she was ready.

"All those years… I never, ever thought you loved me, or even could love me. I'm so sorry I didn't realize it sooner. I was just so caught up with work and everything and you were my assistant so how could it have even happened I just…"

"Sweetheart, you don't need to apologize." Andrew interrupted her anxious rambling. "I didn't know it until now. I was so preoccupied with pleasing my father that I didn't always let myself see you for the incredible woman you are."

Margaret looked at him through her watery vision. He was so real and earnest and hers. He was hers.

"I do want all of those things with you, Andrew."

Andrew brushed her hair back from her face, before gently clasping the necklace around her delicate neck. Looking at her, wearing his family heirloom, knowing she was his, was all he could ever hope for. They would be together, always.


End file.
